Love Scenes
by Insomniac Owl
Summary: A Sakura-Sasuke-Karin triangle. The story of an affair, and what happens after. AU.


**Love Scenes**

_By Insomniac Owl_

**I.**

It's winter.

**II.**

I don't know how I stand being married to him. He's attractive, sure, but he's a jerk, and he never talks to me, and he never kisses me except for these perfunctory pecks when he leaves dinner parties, always to have sex with some other woman in a back room. I don't know if he thinks I don't notice, or if he figures I won't say anything. If it's the last, then I guess he's right.

At least she's pretty – in a thin-boned, edgy sort of way. She hangs all over him, though, like she doesn't know he's married, one hand slyly down the waist of his pants. I pretend not to notice. I smile when Sasuke kisses me; I smile when he leaves; I smile when Ino, my best friend and the only one who knows everything, sees and hands me another glass of wine.

"Here," she says quietly. "You look like you need it."

The wine burns the back of my throat, warm and bitter, and it's like being pressed down whilst simultaneously being lifted up.

**III.**

Karin's hands are soft, and her skin tastes like raspberries and pomegranates.

"Does that make me Hades, then?" I ask.

"Hm? Does what?"

"You taste like pomegranates. Haven't you heard that story, about how the god of the underworld kidnapped a beautiful woman, and brought her to live with him? She ate the pomegranate seeds he gave her, and because of that she had to stay with him one season out of the year."

We're in the guest bedroom, floor lamps casting yellow shadows over the sheets and the curves and angles of our bodies. There's something almost surreal about it, the sounds of conversation filtering through the walls around us. It helps me objectify it a little, I guess. It doesn't seem quite real.

"Why didn't she choose to stay forever, Sasuke?" Karin asks, painted nails scraping lightly down the back of my neck.

"Because he'd kidnapped her. Swept her away. She didn't have a choice."

"Of course she did. She could have run away, couldn't she?"

"No."

She arches her back a little, pushing herself toward me. "Well," she says, dark eyes glinting, "I bet –"

"No."

She's trying to be flirtatious, but she's wrong. "No," I repeat, "she didn't have a choice. And neither, come to think of it, did he."

She falls silent after that, and lets me fuck her.

**IV.**

Sasuke Uchiha is hands down the most beautiful man I've ever met. He's strong, and decisive, and fantastic in bed, and that last one, I'm betting, is something his wife hasn't known for a few months now.

But I'd be lying to myself if I said sex was the only reason I was with him.

He picked me up when I got fired from my last job. I wouldn't sleep with the boss, so the guy gave me the boot, so to speak, didn't even give me my last paycheck; Sasuke was, in a weird sort of way, my savior. The fact that he was handsome as all fuck was just a nice bonus. The fact that we ended up sleeping together was the best thing that ever happened to me. Sasuke's taken care of me.

He's taken care of his wife, too; she just doesn't appreciate it the way I do. I see her staring at us when we dance, and slip my hand down Sasuke's pants; her mouth tightens, but she doesn't do anything. I lean my head against his shoulder, touch my lips to his neck – she turns away.

Really, it's not my fault she doesn't know what she has.

**V.**

I know what Sasuke does with her in our guest bedroom, even though he makes the bed afterward and collects all of their clothing. They come out looking innocent as a pair of lambs, but the room smells of sex.

The first time I noticed I confronted Sasuke about it. I got angry. I yelled at him. He just stood leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, and when I was done he shook his head, and told me not to believe everything I heard. He wasn't sleeping with anyone, he said.

It stands as a testament to my stupidity that I believed him, that first time.

Now I've given up.

Ino tells me I should divorce him, says it might not teach him a lesson but it'll let him know that I'm not the sort of woman who takes things lying down. But I am. _Ino_'s the sort of woman who won't stand for that sort of thing, but then, I don't know if she's really loved a man in her entire life. She's had a few boyfriends, but nothing serious. She's never been _married_.

I just… I don't know.

I don't know if he expects me to pretend like nothing's happening or what, but I'm not as good at lying to myself as he is.

**VI.**

Karin's willing to do everything, and there's a carnal freedom in that. She's slavishly obedient, eager to please, yielding where Sakura has, over the years, become firm. Where Sakura says no, Karin says yes. I suppose it's wrong of me, using her like this, but… well.

She thinks she's seduced me, that she's the one in control. She thinks that when she pulls at my wrist, eyes flitting toward the guest bedroom, I can't say no. It's actually sort of amusing.

I don't know how long I'll keep her – longer than any of the others, certainly, but no longer than a year. Maybe two. Any more and things'll start getting difficult: she'll want me to get a divorce; she'll want me to live with her; she'll want expensive jewelry and a house in Roppongi. She's not worth that kind of money.

She smells nice, though. Like pomegranates. Like that old Greek myth.

When will her mother come looking for _her_? Karin's only twenty, after all – barely an adult, the way she acts. I'm twenty –four. Sakura's… what, twenty-three, now? Twenty-four?

I don't remember.

**VII.**

When we come out of the bedroom, Sasuke lets me hold his hand as we walk down the hallway. His skin is cool and smells like soap, and before we get to the living room he squeezes my hand and gives me a little smile.

God, that smile....

It's what I loved about him first, that sly, knowing smirk of his. Six months ago he came out of nowhere with that smile on his face to rescue me, and I've been his ever since. It's romantic, I think. Even though I know it's unlikely, some small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we'll be together forever. But who am I kidding… I know we won't be. He has a wife, and I know how things like this work. Even if he leaves her for me, eventually he'll find some other younger, prettier woman and leave me for her, and so on and so forth, a quietly unfolding chain of affairs, until he dies.

It's just too bad that doesn't stop me from loving him.

I'm afraid that, in the end, I won't end up with anybody, and I'll end up living alone in a small, rented flat, with twelve cats and a handful of memories. I don't think I could stand that. I don't know what I'll do, when he leaves me behind.

Shit, I wonder how his _wife_ feels....

**VIII.**

I was cleaning the guest bedroom one day, after a dinner party, when I found a pair of black lace underwear shoved down between the bed and the wall. We were having dinner parties once a week, by then, and stupid me, I hadn't realized what that meant.

Maybe I should try to empathize with her, that red–haired woman he's sleeping with. Maybe she came from a poor family, or her parents were killed in a tragic accident or a murder, and I'm hating a woman who's just trying to cling to the best thing she's ever had.

Maybe I should try to empathize with Sasuke. Maybe I wasn't being what he wanted when I was concerned, and loving, and devoted.

That changed, of course, when I realized he was having an affair. Now I just do the minimum, and no favors. Now I just… exist.

If Sasuke's noticed anything different, he hasn't mentioned it.

**IX.**

Lying in bed with Sakura, I imagine it's Karin there beside me. Then I imagine there's nobody there at all.

**X.**

I love Sasuke. I –

**XI.**

I see the article before Sasuke does, because I'm the one who brings in the paper every morning. The fact that I see it at all is a fluke; the rubber band snaps and I drop the whole thing as I come in the door. An article and picture, which is how I recognize her at all, are on the front page. Dull curiosity makes me pick it up and scan the first few lines, but I keep reading because I'm horrified and a little triumphant.

'– murdered in her home last night–'

'Police are investigating politician Shimura Danzo, whose secretary could not be reached for comment –'

'– secretary informs us that an official statement will be made later this week –'

"She's dead," I tell Sasuke at the breakfast table, dropping the paper in his lap.

"Who?"

"Your girlfriend."

He stares at me for a while, then shakes his head. "I must have heard you wrong, Sakura. I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh like hell you don't! That woman you've been screwing in our guest bedroom for who knows how many weeks, what's her name – Karin!" I snatch the paper from his hands and begin reading, my voice harsh and angry. He's denying it, even now he's denying it!

"Police found Karin (last name unreleased) murdered in her home last night. She was stabbed four times. Police are investigating politician Shimura Danzo in connection with the murder, though there is no immediate evidence linking the two. Shimura's secretary could not be reached for –"

"May I see that, please," Sasuke says, holding out a hand. I allow myself a smile as I hand it to him, and wait for him to scan the article. When he finishes he eats a mouthful of rice, chews, and swallows.

"That's too bad," he says, almost thoughtfully. "She worked for me, you know; now I'll have to find a replacement…."

"She didn't work for you, you were fucking her!" I tear the paper out of his hands, but because I don't really know what to do with it I end up throwing it back down, out of his reach. "You were fucking her in our guest bedroom! I found her underwear once, Sasuke, and every time we have a dinner party that room always smells like sex!" The finger I point toward the hallway is trembling, and I snatch it back, clenching both hands into fists. Sasuke's face is still as calm and empty as ever, and this lack of emotion, this straight denial, makes me angrier than the fact that he'd cheated on me.

"Sakura… I'm sorry."

Instantly my anger fades. My hands relax; I open my mouth –

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I've only ever known her through work. She's come to a few of our dinner parties, but I've never slept with her." He finishes his rice, and I stand there, feeling peculiarly empty, until he gets to his feet and moves past me to the sink. "I'm going to be at work late tonight, because of this," he says, rinsing his bowl and drying his hands, then beginning to collect his things for work. "Her death will have left a few holes, and I'll need to find someone who can do her job, at least temporarily. Please don't feel like you have to wait up."

**XII.**

It must be spring.

**end.**


End file.
